


Shard

by ShadowstarKanada



Category: ReBoot (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:13:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24381091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowstarKanada/pseuds/ShadowstarKanada
Summary: A trapped sprite finds Bob in a game.
Kudos: 5





	Shard

It was his icon that betrayed him, glinting in the artificial sunlight like a golden ring as he reached for his prize. Normally, the old woman would have ignored any potential victors as she lay under a nearby tree; it hardly mattered to her whether they won or lost the game. But this time, she saw that flash of gold, and scrambled to her feet.

She jumped on him. "No!" she cried, knocking him back before he could win the game. She'd imagined this moment in her long ago youth, but she'd never imagined _this_ : he threw her off before she'd had a chance to stop him.

"Never seen a gamesprite that old," he muttered, and his voice... oh, it was different than she remembered, but also the same.

She wanted to spend the time to listen to it, to marvel at it, but it was all fleeting. "No." Her voice was broken from the lack of use, barely louder than a whisper no matter how she tried to scream it at him. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen someone who could talk to her, give her any reason to use it. Minutes? Days? It felt like forever, but he was reaching for the goal again. "Bob," she croaked desperately.

He paused, turned to look at her, a puzzled expression on his face. The minutes and hours had barely touched his blue skin, though the few lines that were there seemed to point to a man who had suffered his burdens with an ever growing sorrow. "Do I know you?"

She reached out a hand and he pulled her to her feet. He looked her over, but there was no spark of recognition in his eyes. She could hardly blame him. Her short, jet black hair had long since grown in white, and cascaded raggedly down her back. Her hands were withered, her nails had yellowed, and her skin was nearly translucent. Had her face changed so much? The power she'd held was gone, and perhaps the lack had changed her more than she thought. She had no mirrors, but surely her eyes held the same old spark. Surely he should have seen her through the wrinkles time had seen fit to give her.

She stared at him as if enraptured. She couldn't remember how to speak, what words to say, how to talk to him. Her own name hadn't been spoken since— No, she didn't like to think of that. She lifted a hand and traced his cheekbone with one long fingernail instead. Bob pulled away with a frown. "Okay. We can talk after I win the game."

"No!" It would be too late if he won! She grabbed his arm, and he looked at her in annoyance.

She pulled her icon out of her pocket and showed it to him. He looked at it and his lips pouted for a moment as he stared at her hand, but slowly, his eyes widened. "Your icon... it's broken," he whispered in horror. She nodded.She'd gathered up the pieces a long, long time ago, spent many minutes trying to piece it back together, but she'd never understood how it worked. It sparked sometimes around the jagged inner edges where the pieces of the circuit met.When the game finished, it would sparkle and crack, and she would remain here, alone, waiting for the User to reappear.

"Can I try to fix it?"he asked. She nodded, and he took it, examining it carefully. He pulled off his icon and pressed it to hers, then frowned. "Glitch... mend."

The keytool did... _something_. She wasn't sure what, but he gave her icon back to her, and it was whole again. Hers again.

She held it to herself and cried. She was free again. Free. She didn't remember the words to express her gratitude, but she looked up at him after a while. He hadn't moved, hadn't ended the game. There was a look in his eyes, and she named it fear. But what was there to be afraid of? The user was not here, not yet. "Bob?"

"How long have you been in here?" he asked uncertainly.

She stared at him. Forever and always. She could barely remember the time before... but she remembered him, like something from a dream. She _did_ dream of him at times, his touch soft, his voice wordless, his eyes kind. She cried when she woke from her dreams with him... was this another dream?

She put her arms around him on a whim, and he stiffened. She hummed a song she remembered singing once. She didn't remember the words— had there been words? He'd been there, andshe had worn red, and they had danced... Ah, but now her voice was so dusty, the melody was hardly recognizable, even the rhythm was not quite what she remembered. Somehow he seemed to hear what she was singing. His arms were around her suddenly and he bent his head and he shuddered with realization.

"It can't be you," he whispered. "We scanned the entire net. You were gone."

She felt every second in her bones as she listened to him. He'd given up. He'd given up on her. He'd given up on their love. How strange. She would never have thought she could forgive him for abandoning her. In a way, she'd been right: she had no forgiveness for Bob in this moment... but neither could she apportion blame.

She wondered: Had he loved again?

The blue sprite held her quietly for a moment more, then took a step back, almost reluctantly letting her go. He gave her what she supposed was a smile, though it was so strained that it was barely recognizable. He nodded at the prize. It would win the game. She looked down at her icon. "Whenever you're ready," he said, a slight hitch in his voice betraying him. He took a deep breath.

"Whenever you're ready, Hex, you can come home."


End file.
